


my heart radio is set to explode

by horriblekids



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Accidental Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 13:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2508878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horriblekids/pseuds/horriblekids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times everyone thought Luke and Calum were dating and then one time where they actually are.</p>
<p>Luke puts up an ad for a roommate-slash-bandmate online and Calum's the only one who responds. He turns out not to be a serial killer, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my heart radio is set to explode

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'My Heart Radio' by Sparks the Rescue.
> 
> The other songs they play are 'If I'm Lucky' by State Champs, 'Teenage Dirtbag', 'Don't Stop', 'Cross My Heart' by Marianas Trench and 'The Best of Me' by The Starting Line.
> 
> Thanks to [Katie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mccolfer/pseuds/mccolfer) for giving me the idea because it was definitely a good one.

 

> **WANTED:** roommate to share studio apt. with and start a band. must know how to play an instrument. also please don’t be weird, old, or a serial killer. bonus points if you like video games, blink-182 and cat videos. not looking for a weird sex thing, just a normal roommate. if interested, email me or send a text to xxx-xxx-xxxx.

“I’m not asking them for a full body photo, Michael,” Luke says, glancing up from the laptop screen. He clicks the submit button and sighs deeply. Michael, wearing his new leather jacket and clutching a Starbucks cup, looks at him and smirks. His own coffee cup is sitting on the table untouched - largely because he feels guilty about spending the last of his money on a six dollar drink and in part because coffee makes him feel like he’s getting an ulcer and will die - and he stares at his laptop in disbelief. He can’t believe he’s searching for a roommate on the internet. “I’m going to get murdered,” he moans. “Someone’s going to cut me up into little pieces and murder me and they won’t find my dismembered body for days because you’re the worst friend ever.”

Michael says, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you one of the polar bear cookies?”

And maybe Luke did stare longingly at the polar bear cookies in the display case and maybe he does want a cookie but that doesn’t change the fact that his best friend is a dick. His stomach growls loudly, betraying his determination to wait until he gets back to his apartment where he can make a cup of noodles without spending any money. Michael raises one eyebrow suspiciously. “I don’t want the stupid cookie,” Luke insists. He takes a sip of his drink and immediately regrets getting a frozen drink in the middle of November. A minute later Michael goes and buys them both a cookie anyway, and pushes the paper bag across the table at Luke before biting the head off of his own cookie.

“Eat it,” he goes. “You’re my best friend and I can buy you a fuckin’ gross Starbucks cookie if I wanna.”

“If you were a true friend you’d move in with me,” Luke tells him, and then bites the ears off his own cookie. The only reason they’re even here - at Starbucks in general but this one in particular - is so Michael can buy overpriced drinks and stare at his dumb crush but not actually talk to him. He even made Luke order their drinks because he was too afraid of saying something stupid-sounding. They’ve been here so often that the baristas are starting to recognize them. Luke doesn’t make enough money to keep doing this. He takes another sip of his peppermint mocha frappé and regrets buying it again as he gets a touch of brain freeze.

At least his stomach stops grumbling. He refreshes his email inbox persistently while Michael pretends to be texting someone. “I’m not moving in with you,” Michael says. “It smells funny in your apartment building.” Luke glares and kicks him under the table. It’s all good and well for him - he works full-time at the pet store and his entire job is playing with kittens - but Luke still has no idea how he’s supposed to pay his rent, let alone buy groceries or spend his free time stalking Michael’s barista crush at Starbucks.

He’s about to say that he wants a refund and revoke his best friend privileges when he notices Ashton - also known as the love of Michael’s life even though they’ve never actually, like, spoken to each other - headed their way. Michael’s still going on about the weird cat pee smell in the common area on his floor. Luke kicks him under the table and goes, “Dude,” and tries to do some kind of emergency you’re-making-an-ass-of-yourself friendship bat signal, which Michael doesn’t pick up on. “Michael,” he sighs. “Michael, stop talking.” And then his phone vibrates on the table and he starts panicking because the only person who he ever sends texts to is sitting right in front of him, and it’s not his night to talk to his mom, and his phone number is on the internet so clearly it’s someone responding to his roommate ad.

Ashton walks right up to their table all curly-headed and smiling and goes, “Hey guys!”

“Hey,” says Luke. “What’s up?” He’s trying not to think about the fact that someone responded to his roommate ad. They’re probably an axe murderer. Or some creepy old guy. He’s also pretty sure that Michael is about to die; maybe he can convince Ashton to be his new best friend since his current one is clearly defective. Michael looks like he wants to crawl under the table. Luke kicks him again for good measure.

“Oh, we’re having this open mic thing next week so I just wanted to let you guys know about it since you’re here so much. Figured you guys could probably drum up a few people to come and perform or something since you look like the type of lads who are into music,” Ashton tells him. He also gives Luke a flyer with the time and date on it.

Michael goes, “And what makes you think we are? Interested in music, I mean?”

“… Look at you,” Ashton says. He makes a vague sort of gesture at Michael’s appearance and adds, “Most people would assume that you’re into music from the hair and the tattoos and the, um, band shirts.” It’s difficult to say which of them is the most uncomfortable in this situation: Ashton, who’s just been exposed to what happens when Michael has a crush on someone and gets nervous about talking to them, or Michael who’s clearly wishing he could put his foot in his mouth for being a rude asshole when he didn’t mean to. He also looks sort of pleased that Ashton noticed his band shirts, though.

Luke sighs and goes, “Yeah, we’ll be there. I could probably play a few songs; I’m trying to start this band thing. Maybe I’ll be able to meet proper bandmates.”

“Brilliant! That makes a grand total of… one person, then. Well, this has been sufficiently awkward. I’m just gonna… go,” Ashton says. He looks sort of defeated; Luke makes a mental note to apologize to him when they see him tomorrow - because undoubtedly they will, since Michael will never do something sensible like talk to the guy he likes - and he puts the flyer in his wallet before he can lose it somewhere.

Michael peers at him and says in a small, incredulous voice, “You talked to him.”

“I talk to him every day when I order your coffee,” Luke points out.

“Yes, but you had, like, an actual conversation with him. With words. How did you do that,” Michael says. “Why can’t I talk to him?”

Luke kicks him again and goes, “If you could stop being weird around him then we could probably be actual friends with him.” He checks his notifications and the text from an unknown number is still sitting there, taunting him. It could be a wrong number, he reasons with himself. It could have been one of those scam things telling him that he’s won a free cruise or a Walmart gift card or something. There’s no reason it has to be about the roommate thing - after all his ad was so unspeakably lame that probably no one will reply - so maybe he should just check it and see what it’s about. He’s also thinking about genuinely befriending Ashton; he seems like a cool guy and it might force Michael to actually do something about his stupid crush. In the end he pushes his phone into Michael’s hands and goes, “Check my messages for me and tell me if this person sounds like a serial killer or not.”

“You can be roommates with a serial killer as long as they pay the rent on time,” Michael says. Luke hits him. “Here, you reply to this guy, I don’t know what you want me to say to him. He doesn’t sound like he has any murderous tendencies. Maybe you should meet up with him and see where it goes.”

Luke glares darkly at him. “I’ll meet with him if you can manage to have a normal conversation with Ashton tomorrow. That way you can take full responsibility when my missing person photo is on the evening news.” They finish their drinks before they leave; Michael’s got a shift at the pet store all afternoon and Luke’s supposed to be handing out resumés so he can find a minimum wage job that will cover his rent and bills but not groceries. He’s got a folder full of them in his messenger bag and he’s wearing his best clothes and everything; he’s wearing his best pair of black jeans - the ones without holes in the knees - and a nice sweater that might actually be Michael’s. “I look respectable, right? Like if I walked in right now somewhere would want to hire me?” he asks on the way to Michael’s car.

“Don’t ask me,” Michael says. “I pet cats for a living.” It’s obvious - at least to Luke - that he’s still beating himself up for being an asshole. He’s only had a crush on Ashton for, like, months, and Luke is pretty sure his internal monologue at the moment sounds like ‘Oh god, I’m an idiot, why did I say that, he’s going to hate me forever now.’ Which might be true, maybe, but they’ll still come back to the same Starbucks tomorrow at the same time and order the same stupid drinks and sit at the same table while Michael silently moons over their favorite barista but in a punk rock kind of way. Luke has no idea what’s supposed to be punk rock about sitting in a corner hiding behind his laptop screen.

They pull into the mall parking lot a few minutes later and Luke walks with Michael to the pet store. “Have fun getting covered in cat hair,” he says.

“Have fun getting rejected by the capitalist machine all day,” Michael replies. They hug each other goodbye, and then Luke starts the nastily exhausting task of handing out resumés to every store in the mall. He gets handed three different applications to fill out and promises to return later in the day to hand them back, watches one of them get thrown directly in the trash, and gets told by no less than six other places that they’ll pass his resumé along to the manager and he should hear back from them soon if they want to interview him. So basically he’s probably not going to get hired anywhere in the mall, which is unfortunate because if he did he could just leech rides off Michael and not have to take transit so much. He’s too poor for public transit.

By the time he gets home it’s already dark and he’s so tired he barely has the energy to put water into a pot and make a package of ramen for dinner. It’s cold in his apartment; they haven’t turned the heat on yet and he has to bundle himself in a blanket while he mixes the flavor packet in with his noodles. The only thing he has to drink is orange Tang, which he’s getting sick of, but he drinks it anyway because the tap water in his apartment is questionable at best. He’s starting to think he should text this person back - even if they end up being weird or creepy, at least then he’d be able to afford decent groceries - and so he pulls out his phone and reads the message over one more time.

> **MSG FROM: CALUM (1:52 P.M.)**  
>  hi my name’s calum, responding to the roommate/band ad??? i’m not a serial killer but i do play guitar and have a ps4. maybe we could meet up and jam sometime. let me know x
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (8:19 P.M.)**  
>  sure i guess, my best friend’s crush is hosting this open mic thing next week so maybe we could play there? we could meet at my place so you can decide if you want to live with me or be in a band with me or both? anyway i’m pretty much free all the time so whenever works x
> 
> **MSG FROM: CALUM (8:47 P.M.)**  
>  i’m free tomorrow if that’s not too soon??? i’ll bring my guitar and if we don’t hate each other we can get taco bell after x
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (9:11 P.M.)**  
>  ok but if we go to taco bell you’re buying because i am so broke right now dude my best friend is in love with a starbucks barista and refuses to ask him out
> 
> **MSG FROM: CALUM (9:24 P.M.)**  
>  i’ll go along with this plan if you let me read the cheesy pickup lines on the hot sauces out loud to you
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (9:33 P.M.)**  
>  … i like the pickup lines on the hot sauce go away x
> 
> **MSG FROM: CALUM (9:45 P.M.)**  
>  so lame oh my god i’m going to bed i’ll see you tomorrow x

 

**1.**

Calum turns up to the apartment in the morning wearing a snapback and what look like his sister’s - or girlfriend’s, Luke thinks - jeans. He seems normal enough; Luke slept through his alarm and so the buzzer was what woke him up, he’s in his boxers and a sweater and he feels dumb standing in the doorway just gaping at his potential roommate stupidly. “Um, hi,” he says lamely. “I just woke up, I’m really sorry, I set an alarm and everything and now I’m all… this.” He feels self-conscious about last night’s dishes sitting unwashed in the sink even though there’s only three things. It occurs to him how stupid that is to worry about if they’re going to live together, though. Calum’s going to know that he’s a messy person eventually.

“It’s fine, dude, seriously,” Calum tells him, stepping around him into the apartment. He leans his guitar case against the couch like it’s normal, or something. Luke trails after him, still only half-awake. Somehow Calum manages to find his way around the kitchen enough to put a pot of coffee on for him and keeps telling him to sit down and that it’s fine. He thinks about how he hasn’t brushed his teeth. The bed’s unmade, too, and overall he thinks he’s not making a great first impression since he can’t string together coherent sentences when he’s first woken up and he’s also not wearing any pants.

“Thank you for coffee,” he says once the pot’s finished brewing and he’s dumped half a pound of sugar into his cup. “I’m really not a morning person.”

Calum pats him on the shoulder sympathetically and goes, “Neither am I really.” The kitchenette is small enough that some part of them has to touch the whole time they’re in it; Luke thinks it’s kind of weird that neither of them feel weird about reaching over the other one to get the sugar or open the drawer. Or Calum hasn’t said so, anyway. It feels kind of natural. He’d expected it to be that awkward kind of first meeting where neither of them know what to say and everyone feels uncomfortable the whole time. Calum just sits with him on the couch until he’s properly awake and says he doesn’t mind if Luke wants to take a shower first. “Seriously,” Calum says, giving him a light punch in the arm. “Go shower, I’ll hang out and mess with my guitar. I can entertain myself, y’know.”

When he gets out of the shower it occurs to him that he probably should have brought clothes into the bathroom with him to put on afterward. “Okay, this is awkward,” he says, clutching the towel around his hips. “I forgot to bring clean clothes in here with me so can you please not look at my butt while I change?” He pokes his head out of the bathroom cautiously. Calum’s playing his guitar and for a moment he gets distracted watching - he hadn’t expected Calum to be so good - and he can’t help wanting to sing along. Instead of joining in he scurries over to his dresser and pulls on clothes quickly.

“I totally looked at your butt,” Calum tells him.

Luke makes a face and brings his own guitar over. “Jerk,” he says. “Play something for me so I can embarrass myself ‘cause my voice isn’t even half as good as yours.”

They play a couple of blink-182 covers, nice and easy, and it feels to Luke like they’ve been playing together for ages. Calum surprises him by being able to harmonize really well. Every time he’s messed around on his guitar with Michael they’ve ended up sounding awful, but this - something about it just feels… comfortable. They play a few other covers, talk about playing the open mic together. “So tell me about this best friend of yours and his Starbucks crush,” Calum says.

“Oh my god, he’s hopeless,” Luke groans. “He makes me go there every day so we can sit in the corner and stalk him. Then he tried to tell us about this open mic stuff and he just opened his mouth and was a huge dick. I’m supposed to go this afternoon and do damage control for him. You wanna come with?” He tunes his A string as he talks, then checks the other strings to make sure the tuning on them hasn’t gone too. Michael is going to have to speak to Ashton eventually. Anything is better than sitting and watching him pine. Plus, Luke is pretty sure that if he would just act like a normal human being Ashton might want to go out with him.

Calum says, “I guess I should probably meet your best friend if we’re going to live together, yeah?”

And Luke goes, “You’re sure you want to live with me?”

“I mean, if you want to. I think it’d be pretty cool.” Calum seems so sure of himself when he says it that Luke hugs him. They hold onto each other hard and then Calum says, “Go put your shoes on and we’ll make fun of your friend about his crush for a little while. I’ll drive.” And Luke congratulates himself on finding a roommate that has a car. It turns out that Calum’s the kind of guy who buys those cupholder-sized things of gum and he doesn’t mind when Luke shoves a handful of gum into his mouth.

“So when can you move in?” Luke asks while they’re in line at Starbucks. It’s busy; all the college students are in for their caffeine fix before their afternoon lectures but he can see Ashton working the till over the tops of the students’ heads.

Calum shrugs noncommittally. “Probably as soon as possible. My sister’s pretty eager to get rid of me.”

“Well, all right. I can help you bring stuff over if you want, but I don’t know what we’re going to do about the furniture situation. There’s… kind of not a lot of room, as you’ve seen.” Michael hasn’t shown up yet - probably pulling extra hours at work to play with the kittens - so it’s just the two of them. When they get to the head of the line Ashton smiles widely at them.

“Hey, Luke,” Ashton says, and automatically grabs a cup and marks it with his name and drink order. “This your boyfriend?” he asks, looking at Calum.

They look at each other and both laugh awkwardly. “No, we’re not - he’s my new roommate,” Luke blusters. He can feel himself turning bright red. “We’re in a band together. We’re not…” he explains helplessly while Calum laughs at him.

Ashton just shrugs and goes, “Okay, Luke’s not-boyfriend, what are you drinking today?” Calum orders and Luke notices that Ashton starts a drink for Michael, too, even though he’s not there and files that fact away for later in his head. If Ashton’s got his drink order memorized then that has to mean something. Luke’s feeling a little less than fond of the barista today since he winks when Calum pays for both their drinks and calls them lovebirds.

Michael turns up a few minutes after they’ve gotten their drinks and Luke tells him, “I hate your boyfriend,” and takes a sip of his frappé.

“Okay, one, he’s not my boyfriend and he’s not even interested in me,” Michael says. “Two, is this your potential roommate and has he exhibited any axe-murdering qualities yet?” He’s dressed a little bit better than he normally is - which is to say his shirt isn’t full of holes and he’s not covered in cat hair - and it looks like he’s actually made an effort to look presentable for once. Luke resents the implication that Calum could be an axe murderer. So far he’s been delightful; he laughs at Luke’s jokes and he bought coffee, which basically makes him the best person ever.

“This is Calum,” Luke says, “He’s my new roommate and he’s going to be my new best friend because you’re embarrassing.”

“I am strangely okay with that,” Calum adds. He shakes Michael’s hand and says, “Hi, I’m Calum. You must be Michael. I’ve heard all about you, you know.” Luke is comforted by the ease with which Calum slides into their friend group like he’s never not been a part of it. Michael makes fun of Calum’s snapback; Calum comes up with a witty retort on the spot and after that it’s like they’re all old friends. He keeps being pleasantly surprised by Calum. Like when Michael zones out staring at Ashton and Calum goes, “He’s not going to disappear if you blink, Mikey.”

Michael startles and goes, “I was not staring, fuck off.” He twists the cardboard sleeve around his coffee cup and asks, “What do you guys think it means that he wrote ‘missed you today’ on my cup?”

“It means that you should go talk to him, you dick,” Luke tells him. And of course he doesn’t; they sit around the table and Calum goes through Luke’s music library judging him on the amount of female pop singers in it, making snarky comments the whole time. He’s decided that Calum can be his official best friend, though, since Michael doesn’t even attempt to defend him. Too busy staring at Ashton and pining over him from afar instead of what he should be doing - going over and ordering another coffee and actually speaking to him.

“You know what, some of us have jobs to get to,” Michael says.

Luke rolls his eyes. “Oh, because petting cats is such a hard job. You’re clearly overworked.”

Michael flips him and Calum both off and leaves, muttering under his breath. In his efforts to look aloof and punk rock he doesn’t realize until it’s already happened that he bumps right into Ashton as he’s leaving, and Luke can already predict what’s going to happen before it even does. Ashton looks earnest and apologizes a lot; Michael stutters and stares at his feet. Then Ashton says something and Michael turns bright red and rushes back over to the table, practically vibrating. “Oh my god,” he says.

“What?”

“He asked me if I was going to come to the open mic next week and that he hopes he’ll see me there.”

Calum says, “When’s the wedding?”

“I said I didn’t know and then I said I had to go. I’m an idiot,” Michael moans. He’s really doing a great job of destroying his punk rock street cred with his teenage girl impression. Luke can see Ashton outside on his break, talking on his phone. When he comes back in he looks like he’s annoyed with whoever he was talking to but Luke knows that Michael’s going to take it really personally and think it’s about him. Once he’s disappeared from sight Michael makes a tortured sound and leaves for work.

Luke says, “So auditions for my new best friend are officially open. When can you start?”

“Oh, don’t be mean,” Calum tells him. “Haven’t you ever had a crush like that?”

“I’ve never been that embarrassing.” Luke’s still stuck on the fact that Ashton thought they were dating. He’s probably reading too far into it. There’s nothing boyfriend-y about them. He asks, “So what are your thoughts on bunk beds?” and when Calum insists that they’re both too tall for it to work properly and references Stepbrothers for why it would never work he’s decided that they’re going to be friends for a very long time.

 

**2.**

When they go to pick up the last of Calum’s things, Calum’s sister and her boyfriend are at home watching some dumb movie in the living room. He’s left the car running in the driveway on purpose because he doesn’t want to do the whole awkward goodbye thing - on account of the fact that he’s getting kicked out because the boyfriend is moving in - and Luke comes out from his old bedroom carrying the last of the boxes, and for a second all Calum can think about is how long his legs are. “Ready to go?” Luke asks.

“Yeah,” he says.

It’s not like he’s going to miss living at home that much. He’s already been living with Luke for, like, a week - even though his friends and family think it’s kind of weird that he’s moving out to live with some guy he met on the internet and share a bed with him - and he’s never been happier. To be honest, the sharing a bed thing isn’t even as awkward as he’d thought it would be; he has college classes in the morning so sometimes he’s awake before Luke has even gone to bed. The only time they’re ever in bed at the same time is when they’re watching a movie. He doesn’t even mind Michael - though he would be lying if he didn’t admit that he’s a bit jealous of his and Luke’s closeness. It still feels like he’s an outsider sometimes when he realizes that they have inside jokes that he’s not in on.

While Luke puts everything into the boot of his car, Mali-Koa comes out to say goodbye. “Good boyfriend, that one,” she says approvingly.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Calum protests. He knows what it looks like - Luke is wearing one of his shirts and his snapback - but they don’t feel that way toward each other. There’s nothing he can say to argue his side, though, since they do share a bed and clothes and he’s moving out to live with Luke and be in a band with Luke. He’s so fucked.

“Right,” she goes.

“He’s not,” Calum says again.

She makes a face like she doesn’t believe him and hugs him tight. “Don’t do something stupid,” she tells him. It’s possibly the most big-sisterly thing she’s ever said to him, honestly. And she stands in the driveway and waves at him stupidly until they’ve turned down the street to go back to the apartment. Suddenly it hits him that it’s, like, his own apartment that he’s going to live in with someone he’s not related to for the first time in his life. Holy shit. Luke’s holding a box full of his old soccer trophies perched precariously on top of his long legs. He’s sort of embarrassed to have kept them; they seem very uncool somehow. When they’ve brought everything inside and stacked the last of his boxes against the wall it hits him again that this is his stuff in his very own apartment that he’s sharing with the guy who’s very quickly become one of his best friends. There’s his stuff in the closet and his shoes on the mat by the door and those are his super embarrassing toucan-print underwear in the laundry basket.

“I should probably unpack,” he says to Luke.

And Luke tells him, “Why unpack when we could hook up your PS4 and destroy Mikey in Black Ops?” They end up having to dig through his stuff to find the audio-video cables for it, anyway, and Calum makes a half-assed attempt at putting his stuff away, but in the end they put what they can’t find a spot for in the closet to deal with later. He can’t find his headset anywhere, though, so in lieu of shouting insults at Michael over the headset - they’ve become quite good at insulting each other when they play co-op - Luke sends him menacing texts with the best of Calum’s grumbled insults.

> **MSG FROM: LUKE (1:55 P.M.)**  
>  calum says he’s going to destroy you and also fuck your grandmother that was a headshot
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (1:57 P.M.)**  
>  ok that was a dick move you can’t just sneak up on people like that
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (2:01 P.M.)**  
>  i don’t understand how this game works but stop killing calum you’re making him upset
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (2:04 P.M.)**  
>  pretty sure you can comfort him with your mouth later xD
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (2:07 P.M.)**  
>  why are you so gross, i want a new best friend
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (2:10 P.M.)**  
>  calum said he’ll be my new best friend and he’s buying me pizza later

They play their first official gig that night. It’s only three songs, but if it goes well it could turn into a regular thing. Luke’s nervous about it; he keeps pacing the apartment - which, okay, is like ten steps total - and he changes his clothes four different times before they leave with their guitars. Calum tells him he looks fine every time. “We’re going to be fine,” he says. “You look great, and it’s going to be dimly lit anyway, and it’s just an open mic so there’s bound to be someone loads worse than us.” He slings the strap of his guitar bag over his shoulder and grabs his car keys. Technically the thing started at seven, but Luke’s been fretting so much that he figured showing up a little late might help with the nerves. It also might force Michael to actually speak to his crush.

“I can’t do this,” Luke says when they’re in the car.

Calum pats his knee. “You’re already halfway there. No turning back now. And besides, someone needs to witness Mikey making an ass of himself in front of Ashton with me. It’s not as much fun if it’s just me by myself.”

“What if I forget how to play,” Luke worries. “What if I forget the words?”

“I’ll be right there beside you,” Calum reassures him. By the time they get inside there are a couple of girls onstage singing some girl group song and dancing awkwardly. It had taken them a few minutes to find a parking spot and then they’d had to walk a block; Luke worried the whole time and Calum had thought for half a second that he’d need to drag Luke screaming into the Starbucks. “See,” he says, looking toward the little stage area. “We’re definitely better than those girls.”

Michael’s already sitting at their usual table at the back. “Where have you been,” he hisses. “Ashton’s tried to talk to me three times and I couldn’t think of anything to say! I told him I liked his shoes!” Calum scans the room and locates Ashton near the stage with a clipboard; he’s probably running the whole night, then. Luke disappears for a second, something about signing them up to play, and Michael hides his face behind his hands.

“Has it ever occurred to you that he might be trying to talk to you because he likes you?” Calum asks.

Michael goes, “Oh god,” and sinks lower in his chair.

Luke comes back with drinks for all three of them and tells him, “So we’re not playing until nine, but I said that was okay. That’s cool with you, right?” He nods and takes his drink - Luke’s remembered he doesn’t like sugar in his coffee, thank god - and they watch the other acts play. A few of them are actually pretty good. Calum thinks that they’re going to be better, though.

Ashton comes around with his clipboard and asks Michael if he wants to sign up for a performance slot. “I couldn’t,” Michael says weakly, trying to hide behind his hands. “I haven’t got my guitar and I’m such a crap singer. Your ears would probably start bleeding,” he says melodramatically.

“I’m sure you’d be great,” Ashton says, and smiles at him.

Calum and Luke look at each other and grin. “You could always borrow one of our guitars,” Luke suggests. Michael kicks them both under the table and tries to keep a straight face. “Don’t listen to him, he’s got a great singing voice. Sign him up to go after us.” He’s going to have a bruise on his shin because of Michael, but he doesn’t mind since it’s in the pursuit of true love. Michael protests, saying that he hasn’t got anything prepared and he’s had dairy so he can hardly be expected to sing properly. Ashton writes his name down anyways; Calum and Luke high five each other.

“It’s not like you don’t know every blink song ever,” Calum points out to him. Some red-haired college guy Calum thinks is called Ed goes up and plays a few original songs, which sends Luke into another nervous panic. The guy is admittedly pretty good. He slips his hand into Luke’s and squeezes it. “We’re going to be fine,” he whispers. “You’ll see.” Luke squeezes his hand back and holds onto it until it’s their turn on stage. When Ashton calls their names they take their guitars and get set up; Luke has to adjust the microphone stand because he’s so tall, but once they’re set up and plugged in his nerves seemed to have calmed some.

“Hi,” Calum says into the microphone. “We’re Luke and Calum and we’re going to play some songs now.” He glances over at Luke, who’s hurriedly checking the tuning on his guitar, and then when they’re both ready he strums the opening chords to ‘If I’m Lucky’. After about the first five seconds the rest of the world kind of falls away and it feels the same to him as when it’s just the two of them in the apartment goofing around. He forgets, actually, that they’re in front of a crowd until they reach the end of the song and everyone starts applauding.

Luke goes, “Wow. Okay. This is our first time in front of an audience so, um, thank you for not booing us and thank you to Calum for holding my hand earlier when I was nervous. Uh, this song’s called ‘Teenage Dirtbag’ and it goes kind of like this.” Calum can see Michael standing by the side of the stage with Ashton; he sticks his tongue out quickly and Michael waves at him, still probably trying to get out of having to go on stage. They make it through the song without any major issues - at least, he hopes no one noticed when he fucked it up - and the crowd applauds again, which is pretty cool. One more song to go and then he can start freaking out about the fact that they’re playing an actual gig in front of actual people. He already feels like he’s going to be sick.

They go into ‘Best Of Me’ without any preamble and Calum can’t stop grinning at Luke while they play. It’s going surprisingly well considering that he hadn’t even been sure he could coax Luke up onto the stage. At the end of the song everyone applauds - and he’s pretty sure it’s not just out of politeness - and he does a stupid little bow before he shoves his guitar at Michael. “We really did it,” Luke says wonderingly.

“Congrats on your first gig, boys,” Ashton tells them both, and throws one arm over each of their shoulders. He looks really different out of his all-black work clothes; in his regular clothing he looks like someone they’d actually be friends with. Well, Luke and Michael at least - he doesn’t really know the rest of their friends group that well yet - and definitely speaking for himself he could see them being friends. They stand beside the stage to watch as Michael fumbles with the guitar and glares at them.

Michael says into the microphone, “Hello, my name is Michael and I’m only up here because my friends are terrible. Also I can’t say ‘no’ to cute boys, I guess, so this is a song about my crush.” And then he launches into a cover of ‘Feeling This’, which Calum thinks is a little forward. He seems to have gathered his confidence about it, though, because the way he sings it is incredibly suggestive and he keeps eye contact with Ashton the entire time. Luke nudges his hip and points at Ashton, who’s staring at Michael with wide eyes and blushing deeply. At the end of it he goes, “Um, fuck. Am I allowed to swear up here? No? Alright, well… I’m already embarrassing myself up here. Wow. This one’s about you too, um, so here it goes.” Calum’s surprised that Michael even knows ‘Iris’, much less can play it onstage in front of the guy he’s been pining over for basically forever. Luke looks shocked too.

“I can’t believe he’s doing this,” Luke says.

Calum tells him, “At least he’s finally doing something about it.”

At the end of it everyone applauds for Michael, too, probably because no one knows what else to do since he’s just gotten up there and played two very different, very feelings-y songs back to back. But no one applauds more loudly than Ashton, who’s still standing with them looking kind of dazed. Michael hops down off the stage and hands Calum his guitar back, pauses for a moment and then turns to Ashton and goes, “So. Hi.”

“Hi,” Ashton says back. It’s hard to say which of them is blushing harder as they make eye contact.

Michael seems to consider something for a moment and then - amazingly - he grabs Ashton and kisses him hard. A couple of people in the crowd wolf-whistle at them, but then Ashton’s kissing him back and Luke looks at Calum and says, “Wow, what the fuck,” and grabs Ashton’s clipboard off the table. He scans the list of performers quickly and hops onstage to introduce the next act - a couple of frat guys with acoustic guitars who will probably break out ‘Wonderwall’, fuck - leaving Calum to awkwardly third-wheel while Ashton and Michael make out. When they finally do break apart Calum’s not sure they know what year it is anymore.

“I should,” Ashton starts to say.

Calum glares at both of them and says, “If either of you says ‘I should leave’ or ‘Wow, this is awkward’ I’m going to punch you in the face. Give each other your numbers and go find a corner to make out in. You two are insufferable with all your pining.”

Michael hits him, tells him he’s a dick, and then goes on to ask Ashton, “So… You want to get out of here?” and that is totally not what Calum meant but then they’re leaving together, hand in hand, and he can’t find it in him to be mad about it because they keep looking at each other and smiling. He and Luke wind up looking after the rest of the open mic night, which tapers off after about another hour. They stay and help clean the tables off and everything afterward out of politeness. Ashton’s coworkers seem to really appreciate it.

One of them comes up to him and Luke as they’re taking their guitars to the car and says, “You two make a really good couple. Have a good night!” and she walks off to her own car, leaving Calum to wonder what about the two of them gives off couple vibes.

> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (11:21 P.M.)**  
>  can you feed my cat in the morning bc i don’t think i’m going home tonight ;)
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (11:37 P.M.)**  
>  ugh yes ok use protection pls also calum says u go girl
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (11:45 P.M.)**  
>  i do what i want i’m punk rock
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (11:49 P.M.)**  
>  ashton says he’d have my babies if i asked so fuck you

 

**3.**

Luke’s spending the long weekend at his parents’ house for Labour Day since he hasn’t seen his family for a little while. It feels strange sleeping in his childhood bedroom now even though he’s been moved out for less than a year; he’s gotten used to living in the apartment with Calum and the glow-in-the-dark stars they stuck on their ceiling one day and their wilting potted plant on the kitchen counter. He’s surprised he got the whole weekend off from work since he’s just started working there. Now that he works the morning shift stocking shelves at a grocery store nearby he’s up most mornings at the same time as Calum and they’ve got their morning routine down to a science - Calum wakes up and starts the coffee maker and takes a shower, and by the time he’s done all that Luke’s alarm is usually going off and the coffee’s ready so Luke doesn’t do something stupid like forget to wash the conditioner out of his hair again. Neither of them ever remembers to water the plant.

“Who’s that you’re texting,” Jack asks him as he sends his eighty-seventh message of the day to Calum.

“No one,” he says defensively. “It’s just Calum.”

Ben chimes in with, “Someone misses his boyfriend.” Luke opens his mouth to protest, but there’s nothing he can say since his lock screen is a picture of him and Calum together and everyone’s seen it. His stupid brothers keep teasing him about it and he can feel himself going redder and redder; it’s not like he has a crush on Calum or something - that would be weird - but suddenly he feels really self-conscious about how their relationship must look to other people.

Finally, he snaps and shouts, “I’m not dating Calum!” and storms into the other room to tell his mum, “Jack and Ben are bullying me. Make them stop.”

And his mum just tuts at him sympathetically and says, “They’re just jealous, honey. You’ve got your handsome young man and they’re still out playing the field every night.” Luke wants to protest and say that Calum isn’t handsome but feels like that would be disloyal to Calum. He doesn’t think Calum is handsome. Well, maybe a little bit. But it’s like a normal amount of handsome, not like… not like wants-to-kiss-him handsome, or something.

“We’re not dating,” Luke whines. He grabs a biscuit out of the tin his mother always has on the counter and through a mouth full of crumbs he says, “I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m dating Calum anyway. He’s my best friend. Why doesn’t anyone ever think I’m dating Michael?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Liz scolds him.

“I’m serious!” When no one answers him he huffs and goes out to the back porch to sulk.

> **MSG FROM: LUKE (12:30 P.M.)**  
>  my family is insane, looking for proof i’m adopted. send help
> 
> **MSG FROM: CALUM (12:33 P.M.)**  
>  run away with me x
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (12:39 P.M.)**  
>  yes please my brothers are bullying me come rescue me x
> 
> **MSG FROM: CALUM (12:45 P.M.)**  
>  can’t yet, mum just made lunch. will bring you leftover bbq to make up for the indignity x
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (12:47 P.M.)**  
>  if you really bring leftovers home i might have to kiss you

After dinner Luke watches the footy with his brothers and his dad. Sydney’s only four points behind Adelaide, so everyone besides him is shouting insults at the television - he’s texting Calum and Michael because he doesn’t understand the AFL rules and he doesn’t want to - and someone scores and suddenly his brothers are cheering and jumping around in the living room. “I don’t know what’s happening,” he says quietly to myself. “There’s no way I am related to these people. What’s happened?”

“We’ve scored a behind,” his father tells him.

“Is that good?” Luke asks incredulously.

His father sighs and looks a bit disappointed. “So when do we get to meet Calum?” he asks, clearly looking to change the subject. “We’ve all heard so much about him, your mum and I were thinking you might ask him to come down with you over Christmas or New Years’. Meet the whole family, and all that.” Luke withers in his seat because there’s no way this is happening - there’s no way his entire family thinks he’s dating Calum. Just because Calum’s picking him up on Monday to drive back… And maybe he did accidentally pack Calum’s body wash instead of his own, but it was an honest mistake to make. He packed at the asscrack of dawn; they share everything anyway so it was inevitable that he’d end up borrowing at least something of Calum’s. They’ve been sharing clothes so long he can’t even tell anymore which ones belong to which of them. There might even be some of Michael’s mixed in for all he knows.

“For the last time, dad,” he sighs, “I’m not dating Calum.”

“Right,” his dad says knowingly, and then someone scores another behind or a foul or something and the rest of the Hemmings men get back to shouting at the referees.

> **MSG FROM: LUKE (7:24 P.M.)**  
>  no one in this family understands me i’m so emo
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (7:29 P.M.)**  
>  cut ur life into pieces this is ur last resort :’(
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (7:30 P.M.)**  
>  suffocation no bleeding don’t give a fuck if u cut ur arm bleeding :’(
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (7:31 P.M.)**  
>  stuff like this is why i love calum more than you
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (7:35 P.M.)**  
>  worst best friend ever award goes to u

When he wakes up in the morning no one’s made the coffee and he sits in the living room staring at the wall until someone else gets up because he doesn’t know how to work his parents’ coffee maker. Luke is really starting to regret letting Michael get him addicted to Starbucks; now he craves caffeine all the time and his parents have a fancy coffee maker that has way more buttons than his and Calum’s stupid little Mr. Coffee thing. There’s a digital display, for crying out loud. He keeps sitting there wishing Calum would get up and do it for him and then remembering that Calum’s not there - he’s at his own parents’ for the weekend - and he feels a little pathetic sitting there in his pajama bottoms wrapped in one of Calum’s flannel shirts.

Finally Jack gets up and comes downstairs and asks him, “Have you been sitting down here this whole time?”

“Make me coffee,” Luke whines. He misses Calum. He misses how Calum always gets his favorite coffee mug ready in the morning and does the cream and sugar and everything for him and leaves it on the counter so all he has to do is drink it and wake up properly. He misses their stupid potted plant and their stupid Netflix account that has all the proper recommendations instead of Ben’s weird horror films and his mum’s related viewing for Fringe. Jack bustles around the kitchen a bit and presses buttons on the coffee maker and after a few minutes the smell of coffee - like, proper coffee - fills the kitchen.

“Here, it’s easy,” Jack says, and shows him how the machine works. “You just pick a flavor and pop it in here and it brews the coffee pod for you. No work required.”

And that seems really easy even for his sleep-addled mind to process, so he goes, “I need one of these. Calum always does the coffee, I’m telling him we need to get one of these,” and then he texts Calum as much and attaches a picture of the coffee machine to the text before he presses send. Jack rolls his eyes in a very fond way and pats him on the head before handing him a coffee mug. He still manages to work up a sulk over the fact that it’s not his mug in his own house with his own… Calum. But he manages to make the machine work and picks this weird cinnamon pastry pod and while it’s very tasty it’s definitely not the vanilla toffee caramel creamer stuff he has at home. “I miss Calum,” he tells the coffee maker.

“It’s okay to miss him, y’know,” Jack tells him wisely.

If he weren’t so sleepy still Luke might hit him or at least complain loudly about how he and Calum aren’t dating. As it is he stares grumpily and clutches his coffee mug. “I’m not dating Calum,” he says sulkily.

Luke’s phone vibrates suddenly and he checks his notifications. Apparently Calum’s sent him a snapchat. It’s a photo of Calum holding a coffee mug and frowning. Despite his early-morning protestations it makes him smile; Jack peers at it over his shoulder and goes, “Um, that’s definitely not the kind of snap I send my friends,” all snarkily. It takes a minute for Luke to realize that he’s talking about Calum being shirtless. Luke’s so used to it that it doesn’t really phase him anymore. They’ve seen each other practically naked. Luke takes a photo of his bed hair and sends it to Calum with a frowny face as the caption. He can’t believe his entire family is in cahoots about him dating Calum. Why don’t they understand?

He drinks his fancy coffee with his brothers and then watches the morning news report with his dad. None of them say anything else about Calum - which is good - and then in the afternoon he goes out with his mum to pick up some groceries. She keeps putting stuff in the trolley for him and Calum and asking questions like, “Which type of cereal does Calum like?” and then he tells her and she just… puts it in with their shopping like some kind of normal occurrence. They end up buying loads of cereal and noodle bowls; Luke’s secretly glad his mum is loading him up with food to take back because it means that they won’t have to go grocery shopping for at least a month except for the normal stuff like milk and eggs. His dad keeps asking him which AFL team Calum supports and looks miffed when he says that he doesn’t think Calum actually follows Australian football at all.

“What do you mean he doesn’t follow the footy?” Luke’s dad goes.

“Well, I think he’s more into the European type of football,” Luke says. “He used to play it in secondary school and everything. He made us watch the World Cup with him.”

Luke’s dad frowns for a moment and then grumbles, “Well, as long as he makes you happy.”

That’s the first time his dad has ever not taken it as a personal affront that someone doesn’t follow the footy. Luke suspects it might actually be a Labour Day miracle, if such a thing exists. He half wonders if his family has been replaced by pod people or something; they’re all acting normal except for the part where they’re all utterly convinced that he’s dating Calum. And he’s not. He thinks he would know if he was dating someone - especially Calum - and he’s not, and they’ve never talked about it, and he’s never once suspected that Calum felt that way about him. He wonders what it means that his mum thinks Calum’s handsome. Like, is he supposed to think that too? Is that something he’s supposed to notice? Has he noticed it?

He stays up late and watches one of Ben’s horror movies with him and in the middle of it he goes, “Why does everyone in this house think I’m dating Calum?”

“Because you are? Now shut up and watch the movie,” Ben says.

Luke groans and stretches out on his half of the couch. “Seriously,” he insists. “What about me screams ‘dating my best friend’?”

“Thought Michael was your best friend.”

“He is,” Luke confirms. “But Calum’s also my best friend. It’s just that no one ever thought I was dating Michael so I don’t really understand why you all think me and Calum are.”

Ben sighs and rubs his temples. “Luke, you’ve never been this batshit being away from Michael for a couple days. You literally cannot even function in the morning without Calum around. He called you last night just to say goodnight. Like, I don’t know how to make it any clearer to you without beating you over the head with it. You guys are very dating-y.”

> **MSG FROM: CALUM (11:11 P.M.)**  
>  wishing you were here x
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (11:13 P.M.)**  
>  wishing i was there too x

Luke’s phone goes off in the middle of the night and wakes him up. He glances at the display wondering who’s calling him so late and then he sees that it’s Calum and accepts the call. Calum’s voice in his ear is oddly comforting. “I can’t sleep,” Calum tells him. He rolls onto his side and presses the phone between the pillow and his ear and stares out the window. “Sorry if I woke you up or something.”

“No, it’s okay,” Luke tells him, twisting his fingers in the sheet.

“How’s your holiday been?”

Luke sighs heavily and goes, “My family is weird. I don’t know. They’re my family, you know? It’s just kind of weird being back here now that I live on my own and everything’s all different. Feels like it should still be the same.”

“Yeah,” Calum sighs.

“You okay?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a moment and then finally Calum says, “Yeah, I’m okay. Just lonely I guess. Wanted to hear your voice.”

Luke’s stomach flip-flops. To cover it up - as if Calum could somehow tell over the phone or something - he laughs and goes, “We’re so lame.” He doesn’t say what he’s thinking, that he’s been missing Calum and wanted to hear his voice too.

“I miss you,” Calum tells him.

He says, “I miss you too,” and then he looks at the date on his phone and realizes, “I’ll see you tomorrow when you come to pick me up.”

“I know, just.” And Calum sighs, and it burrows a kind of hole in Luke’s chest. “It’s weird being back home after being away. I want our apartment.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, Luke?”

“Yeah?” he yawns. His eyelids are still heavy with sleep; he could fall asleep again just like this, listening to Calum’s voice. He’s pretty sure he has fallen asleep before when they’ve been talking like this before bed. There’s something inherently comforting about Calum’s voice late at night when he’s tired and his brain won’t shut up.

Calum says, “No, never mind.”

He’s too tired to do anything but go, “Okay. You should try to get some sleep.” He thinks vaguely that it would be nice if he had Calum’s warmth against his back like he usually does, but then he remembers that they’re going to be home the next day and smiles to himself.

“Yeah. You too,” Calum tells him. “G’night.”

 

**4.**

Calum asks a girl in his photography practical to go out with him.

They go for coffee a couple of times before he works up the nerve to ask her to go for drinks and then on the night of he thinks about canceling about a dozen times. Luke’s lying on their bed with a notebook and pen trying to write song lyrics and laughing at him while he gets ready. “I should cancel,” he says for the thousandth time. He can’t get his hair to lie flat and his outfit looks all wrong; he runs his straighteners through his hair again and then it doesn’t look any different and he’s running out of time before he’s supposed to leave for his date.

“You’re not canceling,” Luke says.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Calum protests.

Luke flicks him in the ear and fixes his hair for him so it doesn’t look all weird and sticky-uppy. “The only reason you want to cancel is because you’re nervous,” Luke tells him calmly. “But I know you really like this girl and you’re brilliant so of course she likes you too and you’re going to go out with her and have a great time. Okay?” And he sits still and lets Luke pick out his clothes and gets changed and tries to relax himself. He checks his reflection in the mirror and it doesn’t look half-bad.

“I’m going to make an ass of myself,” he moans.

“You’re not going to make an ass of yourself,” Luke sighs. “Come on, practice your best chat-up lines on me or something. Pretend I’m a girl.”

Calum sighs. “Okay,” he says dubiously. He sits down on the bed next to Luke and closes his eyes. It can’t be that hard to pretend Luke is a girl or something.

Luke giggles girlishly and goes, “Oh Calum, you’re so funny,” in a high-pitched voice. Then he hisses, “This is the part where you’re supposed to practice your moves on me.”

“I can’t think of any decent chat-up lines,” Calum tells him. He looks at Luke; he knows Luke better than anyone - he should at least be able to think of some kind of line to chat up Luke. Instead they sit there staring at each other until Calum sighs and goes, “See, I really can’t do this if I can’t even think of a line to use on you.” And he doesn’t mean for the ‘you’ to sound so condescending, or whatever, but he’s nervous and he’s cross and he feels stupid. Luke rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. Then Calum says, “Hey, it’s not like you have any great chat-up lines either.”

“At least I have moves,” Luke says.

Now it’s Calum’s turn to roll his eyes and laugh. “Prove it,” he says. “Teach me your ways.” He can’t say it without laughing.

Luke moves toward him on the bed and goes, “Come on then, you be the girl and I’ll show you.” Calum rolls his eyes, sure that it’s going to be some stupid thing and then he’s going to laugh and never be able to stop because then he’ll be hysterical and nervous. He crawls over so they’re sitting side by side and Luke says to him, “Okay, so you’re sitting together at a movie or dinner or whatever, right?” Calum nods. “It would be really cliché to do the whole fake yawn and stretch thing,” Luke says. “So what you do is, you move in slow like this” - and he scoots a little closer - “and then you go, like, ‘Hey, you’ve got an eyelash’ or whatever, and then you just…” He reaches up and lets his fingertips brush Calum’s cheek softly. Calum sucks in his breath and waits as Luke leans in and says, “Now you’re supposed to make a wish,” and shows him the eyelash.

Feeling foolish, Calum closes his eyes and blows on Luke’s fingertip. He doesn’t quite know what to wish for. “Okay,” he says, “Now what?”

“Now’s the part where you lean in and just… go for it,” Luke breathes. They’re so close he can feel Luke’s breath; he doesn’t even feel that way about Luke and he could totally see how someone might want to kiss him right now. Luke finishes with, “And that’s how you get someone to kiss you without looking stupid.”

“Right,” Calum says. “The eyelash trick, got it.”

“Great. So now when I steal your girl you’ll know who’s done it,” Luke jokes.

He’s still kind of stuck in his head on the moment where they almost kissed just now. He looks at his phone and goes, “Fuck, look at the time. I should get going.”

> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (8:33 P.M.)**  
>  are you going to fight this chick for calum’s honor or what because i’d totally back you up in a fight
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (8:40 P.M.)**  
>  don’t you have anything better to do than harass me
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (8:41 P.M.)**  
>  can’t a man watch an entire season of dirty jobs in peace
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (8:45 P.M.)**  
>  so you’re not worried that your boyfriend’s out on a date with his side chick right now
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (9:01 P.M.)**  
>  you’re awful i’m not dating calum and even if i was he wouldn’t need a side chick because i’m great

Calum’s pretty sure that this date takes the award for worst date of the century. He’s almost positive, actually, that his date doesn’t know they’re on a proper date. She keeps checking out other guys in the bar they’re at and saying stuff like, “I think that guy’s pretty cute, don’t you?” and looking at him expectantly. All he can think is that he’d rather be at home with Luke, but he doesn’t want to admit that he’s having a crappy time or text Luke for advice so his only option is to try and salvage the date on his own. The next time she points out a guy who’s standing at the bar talking to the bartender and asks, “What about that one? He has a nice ass,” he looks at the guy and sizes him up.

“He’s alright, I guess,” Calum says, “But I think I’m better.”

She laughs and tells him he’s cute. “Why can’t more guys be like you?” she says with a smile. Calum beams at the compliment. Then his date goes on to say, “Luke’s so lucky to have you,” and he’s genuinely confused as to what she means because he’s pretty sure most people don’t put that much thought into his relationship with his roommate.

“Um. What?”

“You and Luke are like the cutest couple ever,” she tells him. Which would be a pretty nice thing to hear - if they were actually dating.

He says, “Um. We’re not - Luke and I aren’t - we’re not dating?”

She looks at him and sighs and says, “If you two aren’t even together then where’s the hope for the rest of us? You guys are perfect for each other.” Calum excuses himself and locks himself in a bathroom stall to text Michael. He can’t ask Luke for help - that’s just way too embarrassing - but Michael will probably, after making fun of him, at least give him some way to bail himself out. Because he’s on a date with a girl who doesn’t think they’re on a date and in fact thinks that he’s dating his best friend. So he’s not even going to reflect on the fact that they almost kissed - because that would fuck way too many things up right now - and instead figure out how to back out of this gracefully without Luke finding out; Michael turns out to be completely unhelpful.

Finally he leaves the bathroom and goes back to their table. “So this has been fun,” he says carefully, “but it’s a Friday night and we’re both on different levels here so you should probably, like, go out with your girlfriends or something. You’re totally a nice person and everything - it’s just, we got our signals crossed, I thought this was a real date and you thought I was dating Luke - so why don’t we split the difference and go out as friends sometime instead?”

“I’m really sorry,” she says. “I honestly thought you two were - I mean, you just act really couple-y, you know? Everyone thinks you’re together,” she tells him, meaning the small group of fans that they’ve gathered from playing gigs around the city. It’s not as surprising as it should be to find that out, he thinks. He walks her to her car and they hug each other good night; he doesn’t feel even the slightest desire to kiss her, actually, and he thinks he wasted his time learning the eyelash trick from Luke since he’s never going to get to use it. He just wants to go home and go to bed.

> **MSG FROM: CALUM (10:54 P.M.)**  
>  date went awful. console me with bad movies and popcorn when i get home
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (10:58 P.M.)**  
>  you poor thing. putting popcorn on now to soothe your wounded emotions
> 
> **MSG FROM: CALUM (11:01 P.M.)**  
>  soothe my wounded emotions with cuddles please x
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (11:06 P.M.)**  
>  i will provide only my very best cuddles for u x

Luke goes out with someone the next week. The only reason Calum knows anything about it is because Luke comes home looking deflated, goes “I am never going on another date ever again,” and throws himself on their bed very dramatically.

“What happened,” Calum asks gently. He puts the kettle on for a cup of tea and - while he remembers - he waters their pitiful plant.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Luke whines.

Calum makes them both a cup of tea, loads Luke’s with sugar and honey, and they sit on the bed and drink it while the old Ninja Turtles cartoon from the nineties plays in the background. He watches Luke drink his tea sullenly and after a while he says, “It’s okay to be embarrassed, y’know. You’ll find someone a thousand times better.” Luke whines and presses himself against Calum’s side. Calum rubs his back gently - to help him fall asleep - and once he’s the only one still awake he kind of has to wonder if he actually wants Luke to find someone else to go out with. He doesn’t know where the thought came from. It just floats to the front of his consciousness and he pushes it away because their bed is warm and he’s sleepy, but when he wakes up in the morning he looks at Luke still sleeping and it’s still there.

Mostly he’s just annoyed at whoever hurt Luke’s feelings, but still.

“What’s up with you,” Luke asks when he’s finished with his shower - and probably left water and towels all over the bathroom floor - and he’s drinking the last of the coffee in the pot. “You look all irritable.”

Calum drains the last of the coffee from his mug and goes, “I don’t know, just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” He’s trying not to be bitter about Luke’s date; he’s especially not wondering if Luke tried the stupid eyelash thing and whether it worked or not. They’re both allowed to go out with other people. It isn’t like - it’s not like they’re, like, married or something - it’s not like they’re joined at the hip and incapable of functioning without each other. Calum doesn’t even know why he’s awake this early except that Luke is awake. His classes are over for the semester. He should be sleeping in until noon and getting trashed every night. Instead he stays in with his stupid roommate and watches weird documentaries on, like, the deep sea or giant squids or whatever. God, they’re so lame.

Luke hugs him tight for a moment. “Well, you kind of need to snap out of it before this afternoon,” he says. “We have that gig with Ed this afternoon.”

“That’s today?” Calum asks weakly. He’d completely forgotten. Not only do they have the gig in the afternoon but they’re supposed to be playing some of their original songs and suddenly he’s feeling really uncomfortable singing about his personal feelings in front of a room full of people. Maybe it’s not too late to get out of going. “Tell everyone I died,” he says. “Tell them you strangled me with my own guitar strings and you’re very sorry but we won’t be performing this afternoon.”

“We can’t,” Luke reminds him. “Our parents are coming today.”

And Calum feels even more panicked now that he’s remembered that particular detail; he’s supposed to meet Luke’s entire family after they play and he feels nauseous about it. “I can’t meet your parents,” he tells Luke. “You can’t meet my parents. They’ll say something embarrassing and then I’ll have to change my name and leave the country.” At least Luke’s already met his sister and thoroughly embarrassed him once, so that’s already out of the way. He just cannot deal with his mother hovering around showing everyone soccer photos of him and school photos and probably naked baby photos, too. If there are naked baby photos he really will die - especially if she shows them to Luke.

Luke just frets at him and goes, “You’re going to have to meet them at some point, dude.”

 

**5.**

> **MSG FROM: CALUM (1:42 P.M.)**  
>  can you tell everyone i’ve died and i’m not going to play the show today it’s an emergency
> 
> **MSG FROM: CALUM (1:45 P.M.)**  
>  no really it is an emergency!!! my mum is showing people naked baby photos of me
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (1:48 P.M.)**  
>  you never send me nudes :(
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (1:50 P.M.)**  
>  jk i’m going to die my brothers are telling embarrassing high school stories pls murder me slowly
> 
> **MSG FROM: CALUM (2:10 P.M.)**  
>  my dad is trying to feed everyone bbq i’m running away to join the circus

“Mum, stop,” Calum whines as his mum pulls out what has to be the millionth photo of him to show Ashton. “You’re a traitor,” he says to Ashton, who is pretending to be interested to be polite. He really should’ve burned all the family photo albums when he had the chance; that moment has come and gone and now he’s trapped in an eternal hell where his mother is determined to embarrass him in front of as many people as possible right before he has to sing a song about his stupid feelings in front of people. Instead of stopping showing people pictures of him his mum asks him if he wants another biscuit and tells him that he should put some more fried chicken on his plate before it’s all gone. “Honestly, mum, I’m not a child anymore,” he moans. He catches sight of Luke having a similar conversation with what must be his own parents across the yard - they’re at this weird end-of-year party for all of Calum’s major and their parents have turned up to see them play - and they share a similarly horrified look.

Calum would honestly run to Luke to rescue him if he didn’t think that it would humiliate both of them when their parents started fawning over them and trading supposedly cute stories about their childhoods. “Oh, come on,” Ashton says. “Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“Michael would defend my honor,” Calum complains. “Michael would never stand to see my street cred ruined like this. Isn’t it like your job as his boyfriend to defend me in his place?”

Ashton beams at him and goes, “Why don’t you go and introduce your parents to Luke.” If his mother weren’t standing right next to him he might have punched Ashton for saying it.

His mum lights up at that suggestion, which is how Calum ends up unwillingly leading both of his parents over to Luke, who’s still locked in an uncomfortable conversation between his own mum and a couple of their other friends. He slides his arm around Luke’s waist - for emotional fortitude, and all that - and goes, “My parents want to meet you. Parents, this is Luke.” And he’s sure that they both look equally miserable and uncomfortable as both sets of parents shake hands with each other and exchange baby photos and hugs.

Luke clings to him as his mother shows off family photos from a vacation when he was six; in his ear Luke goes, “Do you think it’s too late for a suicide pact to me made,” and laughs awkwardly at one of Calum’s dad’s bad jokes.

Calum mutters, “If we leave now I’m sure we could be dead of heat stroke in the desert by tomorrow morning.”

> **MSG FROM: LUKE (2:30 P.M.)**  
>  if my mum says what a nice couple we make one more time i’ll kms
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (2:33 P.M.)**  
>  hahahahahaha
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (2:38 P.M.)**  
>  if you die i’m keeping calum
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (2:40 P.M.)**  
>  fuck off i met him first

He can’t decide which part of their performance feels more awkward: the part where their parents are there, or the fact that their parents think they’re dating and that they’ll think their songs are all about each other. Once they’ve gotten set up he taps the microphone to make sure that it’s on, and says into it, “Hi everyone. I’m Calum and this is Luke,” like everything’s normal - and their usual fans let out a little cheer - and he continues, “We’re here to play some songs for you ‘cause it’s the end of school or something.”

“And we’re all especially lucky today since both of our parents are here,” Luke adds grimly. “This song is called ‘Don’t Stop’ and we wrote it together and it goes like this.” Then Luke counts them in just like they practiced and once they get through the first few bars of it, Calum starts to calm down a bit. It’s mostly Luke carrying the performance if he’s honest; he can’t stop overthinking the fact that their parents are there and everyone keeps saying what a nice couple they make. The whole world’s gone a bit mad. By the time they start playing ‘Cross My Heart’ he’s decided he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks - he knows what he and Luke are and they can think whatever they want - but then Luke smiles at him and it fucks him up and he fumbles his words. They’re at a fucking garden party for the college’s photography department. How can it matter to him what anyone here thinks?

They get to the final song and his heart feels like it’s racing uncontrollably. “So this is our last song,” he says. “We play this one a lot, it’s ‘Teenage Dirtbag’.”

Afterward people come up to them and tell them both how talented they are while Ed gets ready for his set. Calum thinks he says thank you a lot and mostly hides behind Luke, feeling for some reason incredibly vulnerable. Both sets of parents hug them and tell them that they’ve done a good job and somehow between them there’s a mutual decision made for both families to go out to dinner together. They drive back to the apartment - together of course - to drop the guitars off and get changed for dinner. It occurs to him, bizarrely, that they just sang a song they both wrote together in front of a couple hundred people, and he says, “Holy shit,” over the music they have playing in the car.

“What,” Luke goes, one hand splayed over Calum’s knee.

They pull up to a stop sign and Calum puts his hand over Luke’s. “We just played and our parents,” he says, not knowing how to finish the sentence properly. It dies off in his mouth. He’s thinking of his mum showing around baby photos of him, Luke’s mum nodding and saying what a cute kid he was. It’s a strange, nameless confusion that settles into the hollow of his ribs and fills him with panic. His hand on top of Luke’s begins to shake.

“It’s okay,” Luke tells him. “I know.”

It’s not that long until they’re in the parking for their apartment building, slinging the straps of their guitar cases over his arm and trudging up the stairs to home. Calum thinks that he’ll probably take a nap for a little while; maybe it’ll help calm his nerves, maybe his weird little lizard brain will stop thinking so hard, maybe… He doesn’t want to think about it anymore, this terrifying future everyone else seems to have made up for them. Instead of doing anything about it he lies down on their bed facing the wall and squeezes his eyes shut. In a minute Luke lies down after him, not quite touching him but close enough that they could. Their mattress is starting to sag from countless nights with their combined weight on it - there’s starting to be an indent in the center in the shape of their bodies - and after a few minutes his back is pressed up against Luke’s chest.

“Can we just skip dinner?” he asks, tugging Luke’s arm over his waist.

“Can’t turn down free food when all we have in the apartment is ramen and eggs,” Luke tells him. Calum wants to stay in bed and avoid all their responsibilities forever; he doesn’t want to go to dinner with their parents who will inevitably ask them about a future they don’t have together, and he doesn’t want to think about why it bothers him so goddamn much. They’re not dating. He and Luke have never been a thing. Never will be a thing, either, and he wishes people would stop acting like they are. Like they’re just some - some idiots, or something - like the world is just waiting for them to figure it out for themselves.

He falls into a restless sleep after a little while. When he wakes up he’s still tucked against Luke’s chest comfortably - except for one small detail which isn’t really a small thing at all. And again he doesn’t know why he’s so bothered by it - it’s not like it’s the first time he’s woken up in bed with Luke’s erection all pressed up against him. Normally he kind of shifts away or crawls out of bed to shower but today he just… doesn’t. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react or how he wants to react. It occurs to him that the coiled-up feeling in his gut might be want, or desire, or something, and he’s so unsure of what to do about it that he lies perfectly still listening to Luke’s breathing. Calum doesn’t know how he’s supposed to touch Luke now that he knows he wants to.

He slots his fingers into the places between Luke’s and just holds onto his hand like that for a bit. He doesn’t mind really. Somehow he thought that he should be freaking out about this but realizing that he’s had feelings for Luke this whole thing feels… normal. It’s not that much different. Like, if he really wanted to he probably could wake Luke up with a romantic handjob, or something, but he’s not going to do that because Luke is all sensitive and he doesn’t want to fuck them both up over it. But the idea that he could - and he does want to, kind of - is just there at the back of his mind. “You awake?” he asks quietly.

In response, Luke makes a soft sleepy noise and pulls him closer. “Yeah,” he says, and neither of them mention the thing that’s happening between them.

Calum says “Good,” and rolls carefully onto his back.

Really they should get a bigger bed; Luke’s feet always hang off the mattress and Calum has to curl into a ball or drape himself over Luke to avoid falling into the little crevice between the bed and the wall in his sleep. “Hey, Calum,” Luke yawns.

“What.”

“I wanted to ask you something.” Calum nods, like, go on. He’s still working on regaining the ability to form complete sentences. “Um, this is going to sound really awkward,” Luke starts. And Calum kind of thinks that if they’ve survived the nine or so months they’ve known each other in a band together, sharing an apartment the size of a cardboard box and a bed, nothing can really make them feel awkward around each other anymore. “It’s just,” Luke says. “Are we dating?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

Luke lets out a frustrated, cranky sound and rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I mean, like, would you date me if you were into guys?”

“I am into guys,” Calum says in a small voice.

“You never said,” Luke says. “I thought it was just that you were - like, this whole time? - I thought it was a weird friendship thing, or something.” It’s not that Luke is mad at him for not saying something - no, it’s not quite that at all, because now he looks flustered and upset with himself - but Calum can’t figure out where this is coming from. He hooks his foot over Luke’s ankle. Calum hadn’t really thought it was something that needed to be said out loud. Okay, so maybe he’s been kind of not dealing with it because that makes their entire - situation - more confusing. Everyone already thinks they’re together.

Calum sighs. “I didn’t think it was something I needed to specifically say,” he admits.

“Are you… Are we dating, then?”

He pauses for a minute and looks around their apartment - at the closet full of clothes that at this point he can’t remember who was the original owner of, at their sad plant on the counter, at the hook he’d had to borrow a drill from next door to put on the wall so Luke would stop losing his keys - and then he looks at Luke, who’s fiddling with his lip ring nervously, and he goes, “Yeah, I guess we are.”

> **MSG FROM: LUKE (5:54 P.M.)**  
>  so i guess i’m dating calum
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (6:01 P.M.)**  
>  why are you telling me this like it’s new information
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (6:02 P.M.)**  
>  you’ve been dating calum for like a year
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (6:03 P.M.)**  
>  you’re a terrible friend

Luke holds his hand under the table at dinner and laughs at his dad’s stupid jokes. “You know you don’t have to laugh at his dad jokes,” Calum says. “They’re not actually funny.” The dinner is not actually as much of a disaster as he’d originally anticipated - mostly Luke’s parents want to know about college and their summer plans - and most of his nervousness stems from this new thing with Luke. They keep looking at each other and grinning stupidly and Calum keeps thinking that if they keep it up, someone is definitely going to notice. However, no one says anything - to them, at least - and it’s a completely normal dinner.

“Stop being so nervous,” Luke tells him.

They haven’t even ordered drinks yet and Calum’s sitting there quietly freaking out. “I can’t help it,” he whispers.

Luke squeezes his hand and announces to the table, “It’s a little warm in here. We’re going to get some air if you guys want to go ahead and order drinks for us,” and then he leads Calum by the hand out the front doors of the restaurant. There’s a bench out in front - probably for situations like these and for sad girls whose date stood them up - and so they sit on it, and Luke holds his hand for a while before either of them say anything. “We don’t have to do this if it’s too weird for you,” Luke tells him.

“It’s not that it’s too weird,” Calum says. “I just thought that, like, something would feel different if we started dating each other?” He feels stupid admitting it but them being Calum-and-Luke feels a lot like it did when they were just friends so far. He’d expected to feel weird or awkward or something - like when he’d gone out with people before and he got nervous on dates or didn’t know what to say or spilled drinks on himself - but instead here he is freaking out because everything feels too normal.

“I think we kind of skipped the whole awkward getting-to-know-you stuff.” It feels so easy - Luke’s arm around his shoulders, his fingers curled in Luke’s shirtfront - that it almost feels like they’re cheating somehow. He’s turned to say something else when he’s suddenly hyperaware of their close proximity to each other, and then his nervousness flares back up. No, something’s definitely changing between them. It’s in the small things - like Luke looking at him and how his gaze moves from Calum’s eyes to his mouth and then he licks his lips - but there it is all the same. And he’s thinking about what it would be like if they did kiss; he gets so caught up in it that he zones out, stuck in his own head until Luke’s hand brushes his cheek. “Cal,” Luke says with that nervous, hopeful look in his eyes. “Would it be okay if I, like…?”

“Yes,” Calum says quickly. “Yes, yeah.” He pulls Luke to him and presses their lips together quickly. It turns out that they both like the kissing thing quite a lot; Luke’s hand slides through his hair to the back of his neck, makes a sound that Calum very much likes when he tugs on Luke’s bottom lip gently with his teeth. He can’t believe they haven’t been doing this the whole time they’ve known each other. The only reason that they even stop is because of a very distinctly Calum’s mum-sounding ‘ahem’ behind them. “Oh,” he says against Luke’s mouth. “Hi, mum.” He’s absolutely sure that he’s going to get lectured in front of everyone in view of the restaurant’s front windows. He’s waiting for his mum to pull him to his feet by the ear, scold him for being disrespectful, something.

All she says is, “Your fathers are arguing about football. I suspect there’s going to be a mutiny before the night is over,” and then she produces a pack of cigarettes from her purse and lights one up like someone who’s been smoking for years, and glares darkly at Calum and goes, “Don’t tell your father.” Then she sits down on Calum’s other side like seeing him kissing Luke is some everyday occurrence for her. Luke smiles apologetically, like he knows his father’s a madman about sports, and then that’s that.

 

**+1**

> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (11:19 A.M.)**  
>  ash wants me to meet his siblings i am not good with children help
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (11:25 A.M.)**  
>  it’s not too late to have a poly relationship with me and calum
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (11:26 A.M.)**  
>  lol but seriously you’ll be fine he likes you so much you could kill his dog and he’d forgive you
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (11:30 A.M.)**  
>  he wants me to go to harry’s soccer game i need you guys for moral support
> 
> **MSG FROM: LUKE (11:33 A.M.)**  
>  just because i’m dating calum doesn’t mean i know anything about soccer
> 
> **MSG FROM: MICHAEL (11:37 A.M.)**  
>  i know that’s why it’s your job to bribe him into helping me not look like an idiot

Luke sits beside Calum in the grass and listens to him explain soccer to Michael. “It’s not so much about actually scoring goals at this age,” Calum says, “as, like, encouraging them to try and kick the ball instead of what that kid is doing.” He points out a kid with his soccer cleats on over the long socks instead of under them, twirling around midfield with a handful of honeysuckle flowers. The rest of the team is at the other end of the sports field kicking at the ball and mostly missing it completely; Luke’s current count is twenty throw-ins and it’s only the first half of the game. One of the kids on the other team shoves one of Harry’s team down in the mud and Calum adds, “That’s definitely a foul.”

“Do they have fouls in soccer?” Michael goes.

All the soccer mums keep giving them furtive glances and Luke knows they don’t look like they belong there. All three of them are wearing ripped skinny jeans and, like, band shirts - Ashton’s wearing his coach jersey since he’s the official coach of the team and everything and he has a clipboard so he looks official - and Luke’s got Calum’s sunglasses perched on top of his head for safekeeping. “Look, now they’re doing a penalty kick,” Calum tells them. Luke groans and presses his face into Calum’s shoulder; he’s so bored and he wants to leave but they promised Michael they’d stay through the whole thing and he can’t rationalize leaving Michael alone with these soccer harpies.

Luke says, “I’m pretty sure that kid doesn’t even know what sport he’s supposed to be playing,” meaning the twirly kid, who’s now weaving himself a flower crown on the ground near one of the goal posts. The one good thing about the day - because the blistering heat and lack of air conditioning are definite drawbacks - is that Ashton’s little brother seems to adore Michael and keeps looking their way to confirm that they’re paying attention to the game.

At halftime they help Ashton hand out orange slices to the team and Luke’s amazed at the rapaciousness with which the kids eat their oranges before diving for the cooler jug full of fruit drink and filling their little plastic cups with it. “Man, these kids are like vultures. Except this one,” Michael says, and hands Ashton’s brother an extra serving of orange slices. “This is a bribe so that you’ll like me better than your brother,” Michael tells him. “Got it?”

“Got it,” Harry confirms. He grins, showing off his missing front teeth. “Is that your boyfriend?” he asks Luke, pointing at Calum.

“He sure is,” Luke says.

“Does that mean you guys will get married?”

“Dunno,” Luke goes, and then Calum comes back from showing the rest of the team some stretches from when he used to play in secondary school and hugs him on his way to the cooler jug. “Hope so, though.” Harry seems to accept this as a valid answer and runs off after his brother, asking what seems like a million more questions until the break is up and they’re back on the field chasing after the ball again. The two of them watch Ashton get awkwardly hit on by the pack of soccer harpies and Luke has to bury his face against Calum’s shoulder to hide his laughter when Michael gets all crabby and possessive.

It turns out in the end that all of Michael’s worrying was for nothing. Harry adores him and thinks his dyed hair is the coolest thing ever - “But why can’t I have blue hair too,” Harry wants to know on the way to the ice cream place so they can celebrate the team’s first victory; Ashton tells him he’s not old enough yet - and Lauren says she doesn’t care either way, which is as close to a teenage seal of approval as he’ll ever get.

“I bet you were the kid who sat down and pulled out clumps of grass when your parents put you in sports,” Calum teases him. They both know it’s extremely true; when they moved into their new apartment Luke’s mum brought over a bunch of their old photo albums and spent an hour on the years she’d forced him into playing sports. An entire hour dedicated to it was a bit excessive, Luke thinks, and Calum has never really let it go. Luckily for him Calum doesn’t know that his sister has sent Luke a bunch of old videos of the two of them putting on pop concerts in their underwear when they were children. He’s just waiting for the perfect moment to bring it up.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a ton of fun to write and also the first time I've actually completed a 5+1 fic. I hope you guys liked it; I played around with the structure of it a lot and I think it came out really well. Let me know what you thought in the comments or - if you're feeling shy, I'm also on [Tumblr](http://saidtheskeletons.tumblr.com) where anon's always on. I'm also on Twitter at [@g_ramsay](http://www.twitter.com/g_ramsay) if anyone wants an inside look at my brain or wants to tweet fic ideas with me.


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